Shadow of Regret
by HamanoAsuka
Summary: Takes place after Alistair lays with Morrigan, and before the last battle.


Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age Origin. I just love the game.

He closed the door to his room behind him and walked down the corridor. He couldn't sleep now. He had thought the bath would calm him, or at least wash away the unclean feeling that still lingered and made it impossible to sleep. He was beginning to doubt if he would be able to sleep without nightmares at all anymore. He was sure that if they weren't of darkspawn, they'd be about this night. He knew that he would rather have to darkspawn dreams. He would enjoy them, compared to the alternative.

His feet wandered on their own and suddenly he found himself outside her door. Her, the woman he loved and had betrayed. He put his hand on the door, but then his resolve faltered. What would he be to her now? He closed his eyes and slowly pushed the door open. He looked around the room and found her by the fireplace. She was sitting next to it, seemingly to gaze into the now dying flames. Slowly he walked up to her and noticed she was sleeping. Her eyes were red and puffy. She had been crying. A stab of pain surged through his heart as he watched her sleeping face. It wasn't calm, but looked troubled. Sad.

She had been the one to send him to Morrigan, yet he could not wash away the guilt he felt, as if he had cheated on her. He knew that what he had done tonight would probably buy them years together, and still he, as he saw her face now, he wish it could all be undone. He pushed back a strand of hair from her face. She stirred in her sleep, but didn't wake up. Gently he picked her up and carried her over to the bed. There he put her down. He knelt down next to the bed, brushed the hair out of her face again and gently kissed her eyelids.

He had wanted tonight to be theirs. Now he was unsure if any night would ever be theirs. One night with Morrigan to ensure they would both survive had seemed like a small price to pay. As he now watched the love of his life stir in her sleep, he wasn't sure anymore. For Ferelden, that would need as many Grey Wardens as possible, it might have been a small sacrifice. Though he wasn't sure. I didn't quite understand the meaning of the ritual or why it had to be him. And Morrigan.

As for him and his love, the price might have been too high. Would he ever be able to put this night behind. Would she be able to put it behind?

He stood up and walked over to the fireplace. Staring into the dying flames he started to wondered if they would survive this, or if they were gasping for their last breaths in a feeble attempt to stay alive, like the flames in the fireplace. A helplessness like he had never felt before rushed over him. Tears started to cloud his vision. He hadn't shed any tears since Duncan had died, but if there ever was a time to cry, now was it. Behind him he could hear a soft whimper and he turned around and looked at the woman he loved more than anything else in the world. She was stirring on the bed. He gave a last quick glance at the dying fire, and then walked over to the bed again.

He sat down by the edge, with his back leaning against the bed. He closed his eyes and let the sounds around him take over his troubled mind. The soft, but uneven breathing of the woman behind him. The howling wind outside that seemed to penetrate every rock in the estate. The faint cracks from the dying fire. Things considering it was very quiet. The calm before the storm. Though for him, the storm had already passed twice and he was looking at the scrap parts of what was left. Once again hopelessness washed over him. Behind him he heard a soft whimper again, and he turned his head slightly.

She was so beautiful. He had always thought so, right from the start, from the very first glance. Of course at that time her eyes had burned with a hate so fierce, he could've sworn that she was trying to burn him to ashes right there. Her hair red like fire, intensified by her dark green eyes. Her slim elven features and pointy ears. And then later as she slowly had put her prejudices aside and opened up to him, much like he had opened up to her, he had fallen deeper and deeper in love with her. Her compassion. Her strong will. Her wits and the way her whole face shone as she smiled.

As their relationship had blossomed, he had found himself wanting more than he ever wanted before. But he had been inexperienced, and unsure of what to do. Over and over she had joked about it, together with the rest of the group. But she hadn't rushed him into anything, and when he had finally mustered the courage to ask her to spend the night with him for the first time, she hadn't laughed or made fun of his inexperience. He had been nervous and clumsy. Yet all she had been was patient, letting him explore his limits and then led him through his inexperience.

Afterwards, when she had fallen asleep, he had held her in his arms and listened to her calm breath. His whole being had been filled with so much happiness, like he had never felt before. She had come into his life like a storm and ripped up his old life. After that she had helped him to build something new and beautiful. But another storm had come too soon and ripped up the new world they had formed.

Another whimper behind him interrupted his thoughts. His love was stirring even more restless then before, her breathing faster. He reached out and stroked her cheek. She calmed down and a tear trickled down her cheek.

"Alistair…"

His heart gave a jolt. Afraid that he had woke her up, he withdrew his hand. But she kept her eyes closed and her breathing slowed down. He turned and looked at the fire, which was amazingly enough still fighting. His mind drifted off to the events of this evening. Of how she had pleaded for him to spend the night with another woman. Of Morrigans face right before she blew out the candle. Of the feeling of Morrigans hands over his body. A feeling that was so different from the woman he loved. With his love, he was calm. He felt loved and accepted. With Morrigan he felt used and violated. Unclean. Would the woman behind him ever be able to love this violated and unclean being he had become? His attempts to wash away the feeling afterwards had been futile. How does one wash away a taint on the soul?

He buried his face in hands and let the tears that had threatened to come out ever since he had agreed to all of this, fall. His body began to shake, out of anger and guilt. The tears burned in his eyes and regret took over his thoughts. He sighed deep. He didn't deserve to be her. In this room. By her side. She deserved someone else. Someone better. Someone who wouldn't sleep with another woman. Someone who would rather die than to sleep with another woman, just to save his own life.

Yet he couldn't leave. He loved her too much to leave. He felt as though he should leave. But his body didn't move. The thoughts twirled in his head. He knew that he would stay by her side as long as she didn't tell him to leave. But if she would tell him to go away, he would. Until then he would stay by her side. Even if she wouldn't touch him anymore. Even if she wouldn't love him anymore.

His thoughts were interrupted by a touch on his shoulder. He raised his head and then felt two arms sliding down over his chest, embracing him from behind. He drew a shaking breath and opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted before even a thought of what to say had formed in his head.

"Alistair," whispered a soft voice.

The arms around him tightened their embrace and he felt something cold run down his neck. A soft sob a second later made him realize it was her tears. Once again he opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came over his lips.

"Oh Alistair," said the soft voice between the sobs. "I'm so sorry."

"_What?" _Alistair broke loose of the embrace and turned was she apologizing. He was the one who had done wrong. The one who had cheated. He was the violated, filthy being that didn't even deserve to be in the same room as her. Once again he opened his mouth and once again there were no words. He wanted to object but the look on her face silenced him. Her green eyes had locked themselves into his. He didn't know what to make of them. They looked so sad, and still filled with love. Her cheeks were wet and her lips shivering. He cleared his throat to speak, but she put a finger on his lips.

"No," she said quivering. "Don't speak."

She closed her eyes and another stream of tears trickled down her cheeks. He lifted his hand to wipe them away, gently caressing her face with his fingers. She gasped and pushed her face into his hand, having it connect fully with her face. Then she kissed the inside of his hand. He felt as though his heart was slowly tearing itself apart and he pulled her into a tight embrace. She sobbed into his shoulder, her body shaking against him. He pain in his heart seemed only to increase and he held her even tighter.

"I'm so sorry I made you do this," she whispered. "But I couldn't let you die. I can't live without you. Wynne was right. Love is selfish." She flinched. "I am selfish."

He gently pushed her away, shaking his head.

"No," he whispered. "You're not."

"I am," she whispered back and before he could respond she pressed her lips gently against his. He shivered and pulled her in, kissing her with a hunger and a force he had never felt before. The longer it lasted, the more he wanted. He wanted her. Forever. He was the selfish one. A sigh escaped from her, and then she pulled apart and looked at him.

"I am sorry," she said again and then she backed away.

A sting of pain grabbed his heart. Why was she backing away with an apology on her lips? Was she leaving? Was she about to tell him to leave? Hadn't she just said she couldn't live without him, and now she distanced herself from him. He looked at her confused, and she must've seen the pain in his eyes for she smiled encouragingly and reached out her hand toward him. This time it was him that backed away.

"No," he whispered and turned his face away. "I'm not… worthy. I'm filthy. Unclean."

Her hand remained stretched toward him, her eyes fixed on him with a strength only she could carry in them. They burned so fierce and with so much love, he felt as though she was trying to burn his sins away. He found himself reaching for her hand, hoping that she really could remove the sins he had committed with just her love. Their hands connected and she pulled him into the bed and without another thought he let her pull him in. With the other hand she brushed his cheek and smiled.

"I…" he started, but she hushed him and leaned in to kiss him again.

"Keli…"

"Schhh."

"But I…"

Once again she hushed him and placed a finger over his lips.

"For tonight, just hold me."

She let go of his hand and embraced him. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. Together they lay down and she moved even closer. Her scent was so deep, as it filled his lungs and he embraced her even harder, as though she had tried to get away, rather than move closer.

"I love you, Alistair. I always will."

He felt as though his heart had stopped, and yet at the same time racing ever so fast. He was sure that what he was feeling now was a crime and something he absolutely didn't deserve. But now he couldn't walk away anymore. If this would damn his soul forever, he didn't care any longer.

"And I love you, Kelianna," he whispered. "Forever."

In the fireplace the fire, which had almost died out, found new strength and was flickering stronger than before on its last moments.


End file.
